


Sounds like Sexy, Sexy Times

by FancyLadySnackCakes



Series: LowRes [22]
Category: Watch Dogs (Video Games)
Genre: Doing research because knowledge is power, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, First Time, I know it, Light Bondage, Lots of waterbased Lube, Low knows it, Object Insertion, Orgasm, Research, Sounding, Urethral Play, Wrench is a fucking freak, YOU KNOW IT, Youtube instructions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-07-16 07:16:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16081154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FancyLadySnackCakes/pseuds/FancyLadySnackCakes
Summary: Summary: Wrench convinces LowRes to try out something a little unorthodox... maybe more so than usual. Who the hell would have guessed he'd be up for sounding, but Low is always happy to indulge the technocrat as long as no one got hurt.greedy-and-mint-blooded asked: Dear goddess of writing, never have I seen a girl as bright and beautiful as you. If you're still writing you're LowRes series (which I hope you are cause those fics give me life!!) I beg that you write my request. I'd love to read about Low trying out sounding with Wrench, with mayyybe Wrench tied to a chair or something. Pretty please. The world needs more dommy Low. <3A/N: Day 11 of Kinktober for object insertion and sounding. Thank you for the praise, Min-Blooded. Hope you like this one! <3





	Sounds like Sexy, Sexy Times

**Author's Note:**

  * For [greedy-and-mint-blooded](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=greedy-and-mint-blooded).



“Sure you’re ready for this, weirdo?”

“HELL YEAH! Super ready!”

“You never cease to amaze,” you mutter, tap the spacebar on his laptop and start tearing open sterile paraphernalia while the video you’ve both picked out for this starts playing. It goes through the scary warning scripts before some gentle intro music begins. 

“Thank you,” Wrench says with a double caret smile and taps his converse heels. He does some power breathing and starts humming happily, not at all nervous about what’s about to happen. You give him a soft smile and pull your hair back in a tight bun that makes his display blink into twin hearts for whatever reason… something to ask him about later maybe. He was always discovering new kinks; absurd or basic or balls to the walls insane like what you’re about to do now.

‘Make sure that the penis is erect before attempting insertion - a cock ring-’

You eye his bare cock, give it a gentle flick, finding it hard as silky steel and bite your lip as he snickers like HAL on helium. Wrench digs his ass down in the computer chair with a squeak and rolls his shoulders against the strain around his wrists. He’s handcuffed around the back of the chair, and lounging naked from the waist down to his ankles where his jeans are rumpled; knees spread and dick jutting up between his bare fuzzy thighs. A little dribble of pre-cum has already slipped down the head of his dick, painting all those raised veins in a varnish that catches the overhead ceiling fan light juuuust right. 

Wrench makes quite the picture, you have to admit. 

“So when do we get to the good part???” His mask blinks double x’s, exclamations and then big fat question marks. Spiked leather stretches around his jawline as he grinds his teeth and hums back and forth between something recognizable like ‘The Pink Panther’ intro and utter nonsense.

“It’s called patience, and sit still, dude. If you can’t contain all your Wrench-ness for this, then it ain't gonna happen.”

His head knocks back, thick underscores displaying in tiny LED clusters, “Finnnnnnne… I’ll be the best puppy. Waaaaaay better than Giga-what’s-his-name. Promise. Swear on Jimmy Siska’s acting career, may it rest in pieces.”

His knee keeps bouncing. 

“Yeah, you’re definitely nowhere near chill enough for this,” you smirk and tear open a fresh pair of surgical latex-free gloves, “take some deep breaths and calm thyself.” 

The sound of your gentle tone seems to put Wrench on Defcon one alert status instead of chilling him out, which is not where he needs to be… He should be as cool as a cucumber right now, but that won’t happen, so alert is fine as long as he quits twitching. The last thing you want is to hurt him while exploring this type of crazy… ‘out of left field’ stuff. With a hand on his knee, you tap your fingers and gently shush him. 

You’ve done your research, sure, and he’s been watching sounding porn. Also, maybe you guys have fucked while watching one or two videos about it as well… you have… totally, but things ‘need’ to go slow. Unfortunately, slow is sorta an oxymoron when it comes to Wrench which means you’re feeling pretty much the same level of nervous excitement you’d felt the first time you pegged him because back then it was easy to imagine worst-case scenarios if he ended up getting overzealous. 

‘-fresh gloves are a must. We want to avoid infections first and foremost. Whether you are using stainless steel or silicone, find something small and work your way up.’

Wrench’s display switches to question marks as you set all the opened equipment on the TV tray you stole from Ant_Man. It’s probably where he grinds up his weed and rolls his joints, but you’ve scrubbed it down with bleach and covered it with an extra large shower cap for additional sterility. 

Almost looks like a doctor's office in here. Almost. Not really. 

The video on the laptop continues playing from the edge of the bed as you drag Wrench by the chair arms a little closer, snap the gloves on and lace your fingers tight until the plastic stretches around your knuckles. Everything is ready to go, so the two of you sit in tentative silence as the instructional video gets to ‘the good part.’

“I love you,” Wrench says like a Princess Leia wannabe, and you reply with a smug ‘I know’ as the chick on the screen grasps the man’s penis around the base. You scoot closer, throw Wrench and his double-hearts a blushing smile, and grip his freshly scrubbed down cock around the warm, thick base. His dick piercing has been carefully unthreaded before his shower, recommended by the research you both did, and it’s the first time you’ve seen the meatstick sans metal. Super surreal, but thankfully, his cock is backdropped by his wrinkled hoodie, parted, studded vest flaps and that helps a shit load.

‘Don’t introduce saliva or outside bacteria before insertion. Only sterile lubricant should be used. Make sure to grip the shaft with loose pressure or-’

You adjust your grip while Wrench percolates behind the mask; panting already. 

His masked face hangs down, denting his ‘I am DedSec’ hoodie while watching your gloved hand gently prop his cock up at the forty-five-degree angle. He makes a weird, sorta troublesome whine as you pluck up the sounding rod, already smeared in a thick, clear glob of sterile lube.

“Still doing okay?” You ask softly, making sure to keep your tone level for his own benefit. The last thing you wanna do is overstimulate him before going in. 

“... mmhmm, hath no fear, sweet maiden,” ugh, “I will be vocal in any and ALL sensations. Scouts honor.”

You take a deep breath, give his metal-free cock a soft, warm stroke from base to tip, back to the bottom where you steady your grip on his dick before scooting closer; sounding rod held like a spoon. The instructional video chirps and pauses before the girl inserts the metal shaft. Another warning appears on the screen ‘reminding the viewer of the importance of communication while sounding’ before the video resumes and Wrench groans quietly as the girl glides the metal through the man’s urethra.

You probe Wrench’s slit, listening to his dense, leather-muffled breathing, and gently… carefully press the thin rod inside the first half inch. Wrench stiffens, sucks in a breath and nods roughly. It’s ridiculous, all of this, but you can’t deny that his experimentations are always hot and fun, and he’ll let you know if something doesn’t feel right. He’s had a needle shoved through his dick before anyway… this isn’t ‘totally’ uncharted territory for him.

Another half an inch makes him suck in a punching breath. Two inches deep and he’s moaning. That’s as far as you’ll go for now, but there’s no disagreement on his end, so you pull the sounding rod back out until it’s hovering inside the first quarter inch of cock before sliding it back within. Thirty seconds go by - the calming woman’s voice in the video guiding you confidently through this - and Wrench’s thighs start shaking.

“... talk to me, Wrench,” you tell him, focusing on your hands, sounding him shallow and slow.

“Yup.”

A thick whine. 

“Literally… in love… what even is too much?!” He sounds choppy, same as when you fuck his ass, but static-laced and a bit overwhelmed. He swallows audibly, knocks the back of his head on the computer chair, gently jostling the rod in his cock and makes a sound like a wolf howling.

It takes a shit ton of willpower and a raw lip between your teeth not to laugh at the sound and the audible groan of disgust in the next room from B3ta. At this point, you almost feel bad for the hippie hacker, but Wrench hisses and throws his double-zero display down over you and your metal thrusting. You go another inch deep, three notches, and pull all the way out as Wrench makes another wolf noise.

“... no fair.”

“Just applying more lube,” you tell him lowly, “hold your fucking dinosaurs.”

He starts muttering, begging nonsense as you smear the sounding rod in the thick line of lube; recoating it before working it back in. The lubricant is thin, slightly watery, but it’s incredible, and as you steadily sound Wrench, he starts leaking pre-cum around the rod.

‘Once you’re both comfortable, you can introduce extra stimulation. Some men won’t orgasm, and orgasm is not necessary for sounding, but some men find it a prelude to cumming. Use what works for him and yourself. Communication is always key.’

You pause, grip him a little firmer around the base and look up at Wrench’s hanging masked face that’s blinking hazy underscores, “... so, how does it feel?”

“Like fire. Pissing fire, but fuck-awesome fire… fuck… can you go deeper?”

You pause, holding everything still as he blinks sad slashes, then stars when you delve about an inch further down, and pick the tentative pace back up with your lower lip sucked between your teeth. This is… it’s weird, and you’d never, ever let him do this to you - the thought of which sorta haunts you - but it’s different for guys it seems and as long as it doesn’t hurt him, you are more than happy to indulge him in something new. Plus, so far he’s clearly enjoying the brand-new stimulation. 

Under the cuff of his leather mask, his throat bobs beneath the anarchy tattoo. His bangs fall over his ever-changing display of pleasure emotes, even if a couple of them are mad slashes, inward arrows, and sad slashes. The noises he makes in conjunction with the symbols says all you need to know without Wrench forming words. Still, a little verbal reassurance would be helpful. 

The video continues - digital male grunts becoming a soft background chorus - as you sound Wrench until his knees are banging and his shoulders pull forward; breath ragged and wheezing electric whines. It’s hot, of course, it is… always is when he’s enjoying himself.

Your heart leaps over the back of your tongue when he jolts suddenly, and the rod dips an inch deeper, making him gasp with bright exclamations. Quickly, unable to help it, you pull the rod out and brace his pulsating cock in your palm.

“What-what happened?!” You demand, but Wrench’s brain doesn’t process fast enough, so you scoot between his legs and bark up at his hanging, dark mask, “HEY! Talk to me, dude. Are you okay??”

“... yeah,” he moans and gulps audibly, “... is it cool - can you… jerk me off with it in?”

That makes all the blood flood your cheeks for some reason. There’s something about Wrench asking for precisely what he wants, but fucking up the usual confident stream of vocal hubris, that makes your pulse race. Without taking your eyes off his staring double x’s, you nod; wide-eyed.

“Okay,” you tell him, “... but you have to tell me what’s going on. Communication, Wrench. Don’t just make fuck noises, okay?”

Wrench nods and shifts his ass further down the computer chair, watching as you rest your forearms on his thighs and turn his cock forward, just a little closer so you can manage the depth while stroking him as he asked. Just before you begin again, you pause, blink and finger a dollop of lube off the plastic-coated TV tray. Wrench whimpers impatiently, but moans in appreciation when you turn around and glide all that thin slick around his dick; stroking hard and fast for a few seconds before getting back in position.

His thighs tremble under your arms as you guide the sounding rod back through his slit, feeling the slight well of it delving through his urethra against your palm. Carefully, you squeeze, testing how hard he can handle before giving him a blushing, expectant look.

Wrench swallows again and nods, “Just-just leave it in and jerk the meat hammer, please.”

For a second you mentally comb through all the research, making sure this isn’t a super dumb idea and remember one video in particular. It was… shocking at first, but now it’s super hot and channeling that footage while taking it slow, you thread the rod about five inches deep and stroke him from tender bulging cockhead to base. He does that comical howl again - a sound that is not meant to be funny and sounds entirely involuntary.

Just the lightest pressure is all it takes. 

You don’t want to squeeze too tight with the rod standing inside his cock, but it doesn’t seem like he needs much, just some friction. You trade firm, slow strokes for swift, light caresses while keeping everything suitably angled and steady and listening intently to the noises he makes; focused on the differentiation in case he refuses to say shit before something unfortunate happens.

As it turns out, you’re being overly careful, because, behind you, Wrench can see how much more stimulation the girl is giving the cock she’s demonstrating on, but you can’t. You’re too focused on him and his cock and whether he’s doing okay to look, however, Wrench doesn’t need any more than exactly what you give him. Below your fist, his balls start pulling close to his body. From his sac to the base of his cock and around the sounding rod, Wrench leaks his first froth of jizz. 

“... fuuuuuuuuuuuu-” he curses, sucking in a breath halfway through and hisses as you watch - mesmerized - as the rod bobs like a buoy against the inner workings of his cock while another oozing stream of cum spills around steel and all over the back of your knuckles. You clench your fist, unable to help yourself, and grin those apple-cheeks he loves so much as Wrench’s thighs bang around your ribs while he keeps cumming.

“... yes’yes’please-thank’yewwwwwww….”

Wrench gives you four good leaks of contracting loads and a final fifth that shoves half of the rod up and halfway out his cock while he sobs; cuffs rattling behind the back of the chair.

With the utmost care, you pull the sounding rod from him as he hisses and begs you for more, which is insane because he’s already cum. 

Wrench is good, but he’s not ‘that’ good. The scrumptious anarchist needs at least fifteen minutes before he’ll be ready to go again and honestly, you’ll be surprised if he can handle anything more tonight. He needs to soak in the pleasure, relax and then go take a long leak just to be on the safe side.

But, because he’s watching you with stars and you can’t help yourself, you lean down near the beginning of his balls and drag your tongue up through the varnish of cum and flavorless lube, sucking up a generous amount of sour, salty semen just before your lips skate the knot below his cockhead. Wrench’s display flashes vibrant hearts while he stutters beneath spikes and obsidian leather. 

You plant a kiss against the side of his swollen tip, careful of the lightly stretched slit and smile up at him.

“That went well,” you say against his cock as it slowly, gradually softens in your palm. You’re there with wet wipes, cleaning up the remaining dollops of jizz, making sure the tip of his dick is nice and sterile before letting it rest between his thighs.

“I am SO making you eggs tomorrow morning. Eggs, bacon, pancakes… actually… fuck that, I’m bringing back those cake donuts and a fuckload of that hash special from the bakery, plus coffee and extra bacon with-”

“Shhh,” you hush him, kiss his clothed chest where the skull imprint sits and start getting him out of the cuffs, “go take a piss and come back so we can watch The Swamp Thing. You can shower me with breakfast praise in the morning.”

“Sure’sure. Whatever my angelic ragamuffin wants,” he says with happy carets, rubbing his wrists. 

“Hey,” his voice runs dark-static and devious mad slashes glare down at you; still kneeling on the floor, “Wanna get showered in some tongue action before bedtime?”

“How could I say no?” 

You smirk and giggle when he throws you a tilde-caret wink. Tongue action was always hard to refuse, especially before sinking in a rumpled bed with a bootleg 90s horror movie and especially when he tries to spell ‘thank you’ against your clit for indulging him yet again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you have the time, please leave me a comment letting me know what worked for you or what didn't.
> 
> Thank you to Flesh Dust for betaing! <3
> 
>  
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